


Nouveaux Départs | New Beginnings

by thisiseclipse



Category: Honey Lemon (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26797846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisiseclipse/pseuds/thisiseclipse
Summary: The Kingdom of Nouveille, like any empire, contains colorful people of every kind. From aspiring actors and writers to forgotten princes and common folk, all different kinds of outfits and stories litter the streets like fairy dust. This particular tale follows four young adults― aspiring actress Sora, chevalier Jaechan, hopeful writer Kyoungmi, and the overlooked prince Joonhyung― all venturing to find their place in the neverending, vibrant world that surrounds them.
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue

What was the point of being a prince, especially if it didn’t include inheriting the throne?

This was the question Joonhyung asked himself each morning as the sun rose. His room on the fifth floor of the royal palace looked over every corner the Nouveille kingdom reached, from the courtyard to the outer villages and pier. He’d see citizens running around with goods for the daily street markets, as well as children racing after one another with games of tag or makeshift football. It all seemed so lively. As a figurehead however, he was forbidden to leave the gates of the palace in the fear that he could get injured or taken advantage of. Due to these restrictions, while Joon knew about the people, little could be said on the other side of the palace gates. The “Second Prince,” or “Le Faon,” of the royal family line was merely an idea, an idea that couldn’t be tethered to a physical person.

Most days he’d find himself occupied in the palace library, reading histories and romantic tales that gave him a sense of life in the hours he lost himself. These library visits first inspired him to write; writing tales of lovers and royal figures who became one with the people. These writings however, seemed null. Something missing, a liveliness that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. This was when one of the manservants suggested drawing; a method of creating these worlds when words weren’t as easy to find.

In no time at all, sketchbooks and art supplies began to litter Joonhyung’s room. Parchment and murals lined the walls, illustrating stories of long-lost lovers tied behind the confines of their families, princes who escaped their kingdoms to find a new life of their own, and so much more. He’d find himself dazed as he woke up each morning, surrounded by the tales he wished he could make his own. These wishes had a basis though, as he’d only crave the freedom of the outside if he knew what truly laid out there. These dreams came to life thanks to one who was both a chevalier and his closest friend.

This was Jaechan, a young man who had duties spanning the entire length of the kingdom daily― helping with imports at the pier in the morning, strolling the street markets around noon, visiting the _La Petite Biche_ pub as the sun set, and telling Joon all about it as the prince got ready for bed. He told stories of people venturing there from countries far away, forests that housed magical beasts and flora, girls who sang in the streets for extra money each night, festivals full of laughter, food, lights, and so much more. Once in a while, he’d bring the prince leftover food from the pub― something his father would never allow― or miscellaneous knick-knacks he’d find when patrolling the streets. During one of these many escapades, Jaechan befriended a goose, of which he named Wingman, and brought this new companion to the Prince’s chambers after a celebratory dinner.

“Joon! Look what I found!” he had exclaimed, dragging the goose in with a leash.

“What now―” Joon had asked, half-asleep at his desk with a sketchbook and handful of chalk pastels before him. Then, the goose let out a large honk, causing the Prince to jump and fall out of his chair. “What the―”

“This is Wingman! My new assistant, partner in crime― uhm I mean a fellow chaos crusader.”

Needless to say, one thing led to another, and Wingman flew around the room, causing any stray pieces of paper to fling all over the place. That wasn’t the best way to begin the night.

Now Joonhyung couldn’t go a day without hearing several dozen honks as his chevalier made his late-night patrols around the palace. If it went on too late, he’d resort to half-conscious late-night sketches, collecting them by his bed stand so he could look through them at a later date. While a lot of them eventually got lost under one another, one thing was for certain: each drawing illustrated some form of escape. Jaechan sometimes joked about anonymously dragging him to a publishing house in town so he could get his works published as an art book, but Joonhyung would always wave the idea away like it was an impossible dream. He didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. After all, what could the second son of a king realistically hope for in this world?

\- - -

Unrealistic expectations mixed with adventure were the key ingredients in Sora’s eight-course meal of life.

She worked at the _La Petite Biche_ , a well-established pub right outside the main gates of the royal palace. While most employees worked one shift a day, or a few odd hours out of the week, she was there every day, taking orders and waiting tables until the customers drank out the daily supply and slugged themselves home. During the mornings, however, she took care of the pub’s street market rounds, retrieving the many ingredients that would soon be prepped to fill the streets with aromatic wonders that would leave onlookers speechless.

The Nouveille kingdom’s street market was situated along the town pier, filled with bustling stands selling fresh produce and morning meals, while merchants yelled words of advertisement to get onlookers to view the hidden treasures upon their ships. With these frequent visitations, Sora could be recognized from a block away with her signature ginger hair that swayed in rhythm to the light skip in her step. Her “fame” wasn’t left exclusively to the people either. She developed a habit of feeding the ducks and geese along the pier while she waited for some of the market stalls to open in the morning. They’d all honk and quack happily when she arrived, swinging her feet to dangle over the docks while tossing stale crumbs of leftover bread from the day prior. Sometimes they’d even follow her into the streets, expressing devotion for their royal highness of food scraps. There was a chevalier that visited the pub every night for supper, joking about how she could form her own cavalry with the number of birds following her each morning. She’d shrug him off with a few laughs back, but didn’t necessarily discourage the idea. It was fun and humorous, and she loved that.

Yet however much she loved her job, there was a caveat to this happy-go-lucky girl. While she worked hard to support her family of four, often praised as the “la Fille Idéal,” working overtime at this pub wasn’t the type of life she wished to lead for the rest of her days. This was a secret she kept from everyone, save for family and her close friend Kyoungmi, but Sora’s heart rested elsewhere; more specifically in the realms of the theatre.

In a world where the stage was left exclusively to men, Sora dreamed of one day finding herself up there, in costume, reciting lines on her own accord. She’d use any spare money from work to watch live performances, memorizing lines word-for-word as plays from all over the world were shared. It made her starry-eyed, allowing her to fly away into unknown, yet magical places that no one could ever tear her from. Her parents would shrug it off, convinced that she’d eventually “come to her senses,” quit her pub job, and inherit the family tailor shop. But alas, she’d recite stanzas into the dead of night, only startled if her little sister came in to keep her company.

\- - -

What would a Nouvillien chevalier be without his goose? The Second Prince’s right-hand man would easily answer “A man without honor.”

Born the son of a knight with expectations of the highest grandeur, Jaechan’s future was determined before he even left the womb. While this might seem esteemed, and something one would deem a position of privilege, high-class ranking certainly didn’t come without its drawbacks. The higher one ascended in society, the stricter the rules and expectations became. In Jae’s case, he was a natural trickster and quite the clumsy type, two things future chevaliers would fear becoming. While this anxiety never found a place in his mind, his father certainly took those steps for him. 

This man would drill every single fault he could find into his son’s head. Improper table etiquette? No dinner. Holding his sword improperly during practice? Flogging in the stables. Jokes during palace meetings? Thrown out of the house until the following day. These unethical repercussions forced Jaechan to rely on those outside of his household, forming a wall between him and his family the older he got. Instead, he got to know the villagers who populated the many homes and shops around the palace. If thrown out during dinner, the owner of the _Feuille de Dessert_ bakery would give him some mishaps to nibble on. If thrown out during practice, the fishermen would keep him company on the pier. If thrown out of the house for harmless jokes… he had a friend who would allow him to stay.

The Second Prince, Joonhyung, had similar circumstances with his family. Shoved into a royal lineage with zero expectations of inheriting the throne, he was nothing but a spare child, only useful if something were to happen to his older brother. Due to this, he’d frequent odds and ends of the palace when studying in his room got too suffocating. The most amusing of these excursions was watching the chevalier’s practice in the main courtyard. Young men of all ages would take turns practicing maneuvers and defense techniques, moving in rhythm to the commands of their chief. Out of all of the knights, it was the son of this chief that caught his attention; a trainee that tried his best to surpass his older peers. Yet, whenever he’d use the wrong footing or spoke out of turn, he’d be immediately thrown out and be told to not return until supper that evening. This happened more times than not, as the young boy’s patience seemed to grow thinner with each reprimand. In Joonhyung’s eyes, this was admirable. Besides being the king, his father was way too terrifying to even think of speaking out of turn. Oh, how badly he’d want to get a small “Hi” or “Are you okay?” out to this young chevalier in the making. But, Jaechan beat him to it.

“Are you going to keep staring each time I get yelled at, or actually say hello?” he had asked the Prince, tossing his helmet between his hands as he startled him.

“H-Huh? N-No…” Joonhyung had stuttered. His eyes shifted nervously, not knowing what to make of this encounter. He wasn’t exactly the talkative sort, as the only people who talked to him were manservants, nannies, and other royal workers as no one else felt obligated to do so. Jaechan met his shyness with a smile.

“I heard that there’s a giant garden at the back end of the palace, do you know how to get there? I heard that geese float in the ponds when it’s sunny out. After all, I don’t think either of us has anything much better to do.” 

The two of them were around ten years old. Since then, Joonhyung had always offered his friend a place to stay when things got a little too much. In his eyes, the friendship Jaechan offered him that day was a debt he’d never be able to repay. It was priceless, and perhaps that was why he looked forward to the nights his friend acted out of line, because then, and only then, would he have someone to share stories with until the candles burnt out.

\- - -

Art supposedly speaks louder than words, but what if words come easier to an individual rather than the craft she was trained to pursue?

Kyoungmi, the daughter of the royal portrait painter, was taught to paint from the moment she could hold a brush. These expectations required unorthodox hours from sunrise to sunset on the days her father wasn’t summoned to the castle. It was during these “free” days of his that he’d sit her down in a random room in the house, placing objects before her so she could bring them to life on canvas. See, she mastered this art long ago, easily once she hit her late teens, so the longer this went on, the more repetitious and unnecessary it became. 

In fact, she savored the days her father worked at the Nouveille palace, as she was allowed to roam freely on the bottom-most floors and the royal gardens. Here, she’d run through the many bushes, finding new places to hide and rest as the sun shone above. Everything from bright chrysanthemums of every hue, to subtle, violet irises scattered the gardens, often populated with half a dozen gardeners who’d say hello as she passed by. The gardens stretched further than anyone could imagine, spanning large ponds lined with delicately trimmed hedges and marble sculptures. However, the further she went in, the more she discovered. The trees that surrounded the grandeur of the main area hid a maze of hedges only a few steps away. During her first few visits, she spent several hours going in circles until she discovered a large, abandoned fountain occupied by several plots of lavender and rosemary bushes. Other paths led to small sitting areas where lovers could swoon among the pristine flowers and protective branches. However, it didn’t end there.

Kyoungmi discovered that if she tip-toed around the outer edges of the maze, the trees would eventually reveal a clearing of unmanaged wildlife, beautiful in its untamed form. A small river ran alongside the garden’s perimeters, eventually leading to a field of crimson poppies that encased an abandoned gold and white structure. At first, she’d stop by this structure often, trying to find the reason behind its presence, glancing at the cracks along the walls that filled their way with ivy and a few birds nests. Yet, however much curiosity plagued her, she came up with her own answers: stories. Stories let her put a magical magnifying glass on the things she didn’t understand, creating worlds and characters that could’ve walked the same paths as her, but led a much more idealistic end. She’d imagine royals and their secret lovers running along the edges of the riverbank whilst hidden behind the opaque hedges, building a place to huddle together during the cold or wet sunsets when they wished to keep the night to themselves. She thought of their quarrels, bickering until their compassion caused them to laugh it off. She could see them dipping their toes in the water whilst surrounded by miscellaneous patches of peonies that filled spaces the scarlet poppies could not. These characters and stories let her hide in the face of the unknown, carrying her away when reality didn’t make enough sense to pay attention anymore.

_But_ _why does she hide_ , one may ask? Well, like her friend Sora, she had dreams of her own― dreams that’d tear her father in two if she ever spilled them. She wanted to be a writer. A scriptwriter more specifically; something that she could see transformed into a live performance and be shared with audiences she could only dream of. Scriptwriting allowed her to produce something that put smiles on others’ faces, no matter how young or old. It was in these hiding spaces that she’d write, noting down all of the stories this beloved garden filled her with. However, it didn’t end there.

Kyoungmi _was_ , in fact, a published playwright. Not only that but a well-known one too, the only caveat being a pen-name that didn’t match her own. Similar to Sora’s unrealistic aspirations in the acting world, women weren’t expected to have the ability to read or write, much less the ability to create a world from mere written words. Through the name Muguet, or Lily-of-the-Valley, she made these dreams a possibility.

The beloved, anonymous Muguet; the playwright everyone was talking about. She couldn’t pass by the playhouse without hearing how “Muguet understands human emotion so well,” or “He expresses what it means to be in love, not only the difficulties but how precious the tender moments are too!” Sure, writing anonymously meant receiving none of the revenue she’d make if she was a man, but if it meant putting a smile on the faces of people who had dreams like her, it was worth it. 

So, escaping to the _La Petite Biche_ every other night, she settled for living through her best friend. At least Sora wasn’t afraid to proclaim her aspirations to the world, reciting lines with both Kyoungmi and other customers as she waited tables. Maybe one day she could do the same and put a proper name on the stories that would be left for generations to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Golden glimmers of sunlight peeked through Joonhyung’s bedroom, blinking through his eyes and causing him to wake up.

It was the late morning, quite understandably as he didn’t sleep well the night before. Jaechan had come in last night, going on and on about what he had seen in town that day, and easily went on until half-past midnight. By that point, he had revved up the Prince so much that neither of them could fall asleep. Joon decided to draw in his sketchbooks until the candles went out whilst Jaechan sprawled himself across one of the spare couches in the room, humming to himself until he fell into slumber. By now, he probably missed breakfast.

Jaechan was gone — most likely on morning patrol. No matter how much he’d love to keep his Prince company, among sleeping in and other things, not getting yelled at by his father would always be a first priority. The Royal Guard and the duties that piled alongside it came first after all. 

Joonhyung sighed, staring at the loose papers filled with sketches from the night before. Several of them had fallen onto the floor, scattering every few seconds as the morning breeze blew through the windows. He grumbled to himself, dragging his comforter with him as he got out of bed to pick them all up. Jaechan had mentioned the pub again last night, going on and on about one of the waitresses there and how geese seemed to follow her on the street like she was their ring leader of sorts. Due to this, a lot of the sketches featured very rough depictions of geese wearing all kinds of silly outfits while a depiction of this redhead spun around the pages with her waiting trays and apron following suit. It was as if she was a character right out of the novels he read growing up— something out of this world. Then again, when the only world he knew was within the Nouveille palace’s walls, it wouldn’t take much to whisk him away into a life he’d find worth living. In more ways than one, Jaechan truly kept him going.

He shuffled through his older sketches, trying to sort them by date as he found more and more of them laying in odd corners of the room, all illustrating the many tales Jaechan recounted under the muffled light of the clouded moon. There were about a dozen from two weeks ago, all depicting the pier that Joonhyung could only get a rough glance of through his bedroom window. The chevalier would go on and on about each of the people that he exchanged a hello with, from their hair length and hue to the clothes they wore and the sparkle in their eyes. The pier Joonhyung once saw from afar was now filled with dozens and dozens of vibrant people and their colorful personalities. He then collected a bunch of pastel iterations of the street markets Jaechan would mention from his afternoon shifts— whilst along the pier with the many merchant ships, he’d explain the numerous stands and what they’d sell, the vendors he was friendly with, and the few that threw food scraps at him if he touched anything without intending to pay for it. He had mentioned the goose girl here too, saying that she got there before everyone else, taking all the good produce and catches before anyone could get a second glance. Joon thought it was only fair, especially if she was up when the sun rose each morning. The  _ La Petite Biche _ apparently had the best pub in the kingdom anyway, hard work was met with rewards after all. He bit his lip, shoving the urge to escape to where he could ignore it. It was too tempting sometimes— he’d need a different distraction.

He looked up from the loose-leaf papers, faced with the only wall space in his room that wasn’t covered in painted murals: the windows that overlooked the kingdom. There was a fair amount of space, as the windows doubled more as a makeshift balcony than a mere lookout, featuring a railing that he’d lean out of from time to time when he’d find himself lost in thought. Maybe if he painted these stories of Jaechan’s, the liveliness out there wouldn’t seem so far away, unlike the many fictional tales that covered the rest of the room. He swallowed, eyeing the cabinet in his room that housed all of his painting pigments and fresco plaster. The pier was visible from his window too, even if it looked incredibly tiny. He decided to act on his impulse; after all, his art brought life to the world he could only dream of from behind the fortified walls he was forbidden from leaving.

It was well into the evening by the time Jaechan returned, carrying a cloth of foods he snagged from the kitchens to share with his Prince.

Joonhyung, however, barely left his room at all that day. Save for a few restroom breaks and a few manservants bringing in food or cleaning, he got lost in this vibrant reality his chevalier created for him— a reality so detailed and impossibly close that he craved it all the more. He had managed to fresco a tiny bit of the wall off, illustrating the waters that surrounded the port and the beginnings of the many boats and ships that traveled through them. He was detailing one of the flags on the ships when the door slammed open, combined with the sound of loud honking that nearly made him streak a line of bright crimson across the plaster.

“My dear Prince, do I have a story for you today!” Jaechan exclaimed as he marched in, his goose Wingman on a leash, tugging to go in any direction but the one he was directed to. “The silk merchants arrived from the East and were selling on the pier! They had so many stories to tell that I went back during my break so I could get things to tell you! One of the vendors was selling these silkscreen prints and they’ll be there until the end of the week; I wanted to get you one but I didn’t know what design you’d prefer. I bought an ink drawing though, I thought you’d like it.” With his free hand, he pulled a translucent piece of paper out of his satchel. Joonhyung reached for it, revealing a black and red ink brush painting of blossoms and lines indicating possible architecture across the white paper. It was much more simple than the art produced in Nouveille, the negative space allowing him to not get overwhelmed by the details many fresco and oil pieces contained. The simplicity was like a breath of fresh air after being cooped inside all winter. He smiled.

“Thank you Jaechan, I really appreciate you thinking of me.” the Prince replied, moving the paper to his nightstand, now clean unlike the night before. It was nice indeed, but something in his gut still tugged at him. Would it be like this forever? Stuck in a palace like a damsel in distress with his only escape being the stories and tales Jaechan recounted under the moonlight? His chevalier glanced from him to the frescoed wall, equally in thought. 

“You’re painting the pier instead of your fictional worlds—” he muttered, recognizing the shapes Joonhyung had outlined on the wall. He stepped a bit closer, trailing his eyes along the waters and boats that had been painted in. All the spare pigment was still littered along the floor. “People too, everything I’ve told you—” Joonhyung shuffled his feet nervously as Jaechan turned his attention back to him. “Have you been doing alright?”

“Huh, what? Yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I?” the Prince stuttered, avoiding eye contact. Jaechan sighed.

“Do you have to go to the events tomorrow?” he asked.

“Events?”

“The Crowned Prince and your father are having a meeting with one of the neighboring kingdoms about a potential marriage alliance. I didn’t know if they wanted you there or not. It’s a whole brunch banquet of some sort, that’s why I asked.” He paused, “The head of the Guard will be on duty in there while I’m assigned to just do whatever outside.” The chevalier pursed his lips inquisitively.

“No, I’m not required to attend. What are you getting at?” Joonhyung’s heart began to pound, no way. If Jaechan was proposing what he thought he was; he could feel his hands begin to shake in anticipation.

“Do you want to go to town with me tomorrow then? You’ll have to get up before dawn, but if you leave a note for your manservants that you’re in the garden, they won’t think twice.” He shot the Prince a cheeky smile. “Rules are meant to be bent once you learn them, right? Especially when the politics are talking for themselves at the same time.”

“Oh, f— yes!” Joonhyung exclaimed, covering his mouth to halt a swear or two from excitement. He always had his doubts about leaving the palace under his father’s nose, but in recent months, as the weather warmed up, his patience had grown thinner and thinner by the day. The boy that had been trained to be well-mannered and silent from birth had enough. No more easing into the constraints of his beautifully decorated room, he was of age now regardless! He could feel a silly grin spreading across his face.

“I’ll take it that you’ll be up early in the morning then, my Prince. If you’re not awake, I’m sure Wingman will be the perfect wake-up horn.” Jaechan reached over to his goose and picked him up, a loud honk as a curt reply. “Get some sleep, see you then! Don’t stay up much more, alright?”

With that, he left Joonhyung to himself for the night— millions and millions of thoughts dancing around the Prince’s head as he flopped down onto his mattress. An exhausting but exciting day awaited him, and as he found himself falling asleep, the smile never left his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will be posted on the 4th of every month! For early access to the next chapter and extra hi-res art for this series, please consider checking out Courtney's Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/courtneywirthit !!
> 
> All characters in this chapter belong to Courtney Wirth @courtneywirthit on Instagram and @courtneyjjigae on Twitter !!  
> Writing is by me, @_thisiseclipse_ on Twitter !!


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